Alice's Adventures in the Real World
by Screw Prince Charming
Summary: I loved the Alice film; it gave some great characters and a very open ending that trailed off to leave you to think of Alice's new adventures. This is what I think happened after the movie closed.
1. Chapter 1

**Note to Reader**: As an audience member, I was satisfied with the ending of the Alice in wonderland movie, but as a romantic I couldn't just let it sit. It's been pestering me for a month since the movie came out and I can't stand it! So now it's my turn to take the story into my own hands.

**Dedication**: This chapter is dedicated to Miss Madelin (yes, I spelled that right) who was my companion to attend the midnight premiere of Alice in Wonderland.

**Chapter 1:**

** Alice's POV:**

I said farewell to Absolem as he flew away from the ship. His blue wings glinted in the sunlight as I watched him leave and he melted into the deep blue of the ocean. A small smile pulled up one side of my mouth and I let out a breathy sigh, turning from the water to face my crew, the brave troupe of men endeavored to deliver me safely across the sea. It was strange, but I wasn't scared. I wasn't the least bit worried of what might await me, for it was just a part of a new adventure.

"Shove off, boys!" The captain yelled from the other side of the ship. An eruption of activity swept across the deck. Men yelled and grunted as they pulled on various ropes that I had no clue what the purposes were, the sails fell and filled with wind, and the ship began to move away from the dock. I laughed in excitement and leaned out over the railing, gripping the wood tightly in one hand and waving farewell to the spectators with the other. My mother was there, waving that ridiculous white kerchief at me. She tried to look strong, but she couldn't hide the tears, not from me. She'd be alright; my new business partner would look after her.

I stayed in that spot for hours, just resting my weight on the rail and watching as the city, England, my home, grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Soon the sounds of the land fell silent and all that was left was the water and salty spray sloshing against the side of the ship and the crew men walking and working behind me. I didn't know any of them, not even the slightest idea what any of their names were. Not that any of them would bother speaking with me; every one of them knew that it was bad luck to have a woman on board a ship. I'd be lucky if one of them looked my direction just to shoot me an evil glare. This would likely be an incredibly lonely 3 months.

When land became nothing more than a black line on the horizon, I finally turned to look at my new companions and was sadly surprised at what I found. All the men looked the same; to say there was indeed a great variance in age and shape, but emotions read the same across each face. Concentration was the only expression per face no matter where I looked. None had clothes that particularly stood out, all clean and frankly uninteresting. The only color that caught my eye was the hair of a man who appeared by my estimate in his early twenties; it was dark, near orange and tied into a small ponytail at his neck. His back was turned to me, but he was obviously unaccustomed to ship work. He wore a clean white shirt like the rest with the sleeves rolled up to reveal shockingly pale skin, not darkly tanned like the others. His pants were dark brown and well fitting, but his black boots seemed far too large for his feet.

The man continued to hold my attention as I watched him. He was trying to lift a chest of merchandise that was too heavy for him to lift; he would strain to pick it up for about 10 seconds, stop for 5 seconds, and then attempt with renewed fervor for another ten. He tried lifting it towards the right, towards the left, to tip it away from him to get a hold beneath it, but all to no avail. It was the most entertaining thing I had seen since my mother's reaction to my improvised futterwacken! Finally he managed to wedge his foot underneath a corner of the chest and then the fingers of his left hand. Then with one great heave, he thrust the chest up….then over his right shoulder where it fell crashing to the deck only a few feet from me, its contents spilling all over the wood. Bottles of wine rolled from their packaging and scattered in all directions, thankfully none broke.

Quickly I dropped to my knees and began picking up the bottles and trying to hurriedly put them back in the chest before anyone noticed the commotion. The man looked rather panicked at his error, hair falling from his ponytail in all directions. He didn't speak or glance up from his work, his eyes hidden beneath the mess of hair as he helped me clean up the wine and straw. I paused for a moment when I noticed his hands. They were scratched and worn, the skin pink on his palms and fingers with nails that were yellowed and chipped. His hands were not in any form calloused like the other sailors, which encouraged my theory that he had never worked on a ship before. What in the world was he doing here now? Then we were caught. I could feel the anger rolling off the captain in ways as he stood behind me, his shadow falling over me the only indication of his silent arrival. I froze.

"Terrence! What is going on here?!?!" He screamed. The man stood, as did I. I looked the captain in the face then glanced back at the man whose eyes were fixed at the captain's feet. He kept his head bowed as he knew he should, but there was no fear in his stance.

"I am sorry, sir. Actually my-"

"It was my fault." I cut in hurriedly, "The sailor here was carrying this crate, and I was walking by and I didn't see him, so I ran smack into him and he fell. But, as you can see none of the bottles were harmed, nothing is cracked and no harm was done." The captain turned his attention to me, trying to stare me down, but I wouldn't have that. I returned his stare with equal force until he was the one to look away.

"You should be more careful, Miss Kingsley. You could get hurt if you don't watch out." I hoped that I imagined the double meaning in the captain's words as he took one more look at the chest and the man before he turned and left the way he had come. I watched him leave with my arms crossed and a crooked smile on my face, feeling triumphant.

When I turned back, the not-quite-sailor was closing the lid of the chest which he would now have to attempt to move again. He said nothing.

"Here, let me help you with that." I said, stooping down and grabbing one end of the chest. Who cared if it was 'unlady-like'? Who on this ship would judge me?

Again the man said nothing, but moved to the opposite end and helped me heave it up. To his credit, it was exceptionally heavy, but I as we walked I became thoroughly confused. I was having trouble and had to constantly watch my feet so as not to trip, but he now had no trouble with the lifting whatsoever. The movement of his too large boots was near effortless and he was doing almost all of the lifting himself.

"Would you care to play a game?" I asked. He made no verbal reply, and as I could only see his boots, I wouldn't have been able to see if he nodded. But I continued anyway.

"I have been contemplating words that begin with the letter 'M'." My smile grew at the memory, eyes nearly fogging up with tears of fondness for my friend who I had left behind me. I couldn't be sure, but I think that the man chuckled from the other side. I suppose he has probably never heard of such a game, but it had instantly become one of my favorites.

"Let's see, there's Minotaur, Music, Mirana…" By now we had made our over to the pile of boxes that were tied down to be kept on the main deck. With one final heave we lifted the chest to rest in the space that had been left for it. The man grabbed a rope that had been left nearby and secured the chest in place. I probably could have left at that point, but my mind and mouth were already running far ahead of me. I leaned against the pile with my hands folded behind my back as I continued to list off words. I studied the wood patterns beneath my feet.

"Milliner, Mariner, Madness-"

"-Muchness." The man stated nonchalantly.

That stopped me dead in my tracks. Slowly I turned myself to face him and lifted my eyes to meet his.

My breath caught in my throat.

* * *

I'm sure you all saw that one coming from a mile away, but please understand that it was necessary for me to set the scene. Don't worry, the coming chapters will be more intriguing and better fun to read. Please review if there is anything you want to see or any recommendations you may have.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** I dedicate this chapter to Ngoc Chau, who truly knows her Alice trivia. When I wrote the first chapter I smirked a little when I wrote the captain's dialog and wondered if anyone would notice that I had him screw up the name. Ngoc Chau was the only one that noticed, so congrats!

**Chapter 2:**

"Oh! I'm-I-um-I'm sorry sir. I must have confused you with someone else." I didn't even bother trying to mask the disappointment in my voice and I turned my head away from him. The man's eyes were shocking indeed; the deepest and darkest green that I had ever seen; like a forest canopy by night. But they were not the pale meadow green eyes that I had hoped to see. Also, this man looked to be my age, perhaps a year or two older and Tarrant must be at least twice his age by now.

"Really? And whom might you have confused me for?" I glanced back up at him only for a second. His eyes sparkled with delight and he smiled at me. They were pearl white and perfectly strait, with not even the hint of a gap.

"A friend." I looked down again and made my way past him towards the door that led to the lower decks. I didn't want to see this boy anymore. The heels of my boots thudded defeatedly against the wooden planks. It was truly quite incredible how much one could be let down after just one brief second of false hope.

"And who is this 'Friend' of yours? What is he like? Is he handsome?" I gasped and clutched a hand to my throat as the boy appeared in front of me. I turned my head to look at the spot where he had been standing a second ago and wondered how in the world he could have gotten over here so quickly without me hearing him. I turned back and jumped again as he was standing even closer to me than before. Did he make no sound when he moved?

"Yes," I answered annoyed as I took a step back. "very handsome. Or well…I guess he was handsome. I don't rightfully know, really. He always wore clown makeup." I expected some sort of reaction when I mentioned the makeup, but he simply nodded in reply.

"Was he kind to you?" I was beginning to get very angry with this boy. He had no right to pry and ask me all these questions. I had never even met him before a few minutes ago! I was tempted to tell him to shove off, but I decided to be polite like a good girl for once.

"Yes, he was always kind to me, except for the times when he wasn't. He was quite Mad." Again I maneuvered around him and headed towards the door. I didn't know where my cabin was, but if I could find it he would be forced to leave me alone. Not even he would dare enter a woman's cabin unchaperoned. I pulled the door open roughly and headed for the stairs.

"I've heard that all the best people are!" He called after me. Again I stopped. I turned, fury building in my chest. Slamming the door I walked briskly back over and crossed my arms in front of me.

"Have you been following me? What are you, some sort of spy? How do you know about my father?" I yelled. Several sailors who were working stopped and stared at the scene unfolding on the deck. I glanced around at them, realizing too late that I should have kept my voice down. Being the center of attention was something that I did not enjoy. As I looked at each of their watching faces, I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I dug my fingers into the sleeves of my jacket and tried to keep my breathing controlled, all sense of anger lost. The second that they looked at me, any thoughts of anything left my mind and all I heard was my heart pounding in my ears.

It felt like an eternity that I stood frozen, though I know that it was only a few seconds before I was kindly yet forcefully taken by the arm and led back to the door. I was frisked down the steps into the dark and dampness of the lower floors. When we reached the bottom of the stairs my savior let go of my arm and I leaned back against the wall of the narrow hall to regain my composure. I stared at the laces of my boots and counted them until my heart reached a normal rhythm again. When I looked up I knew he would be there, but I was still furious to see the orange haired boy's face looking back at me, concern written across his face and those eyes. Why did _he_ have to be the one to help me? But at least now we were alone. I looked up and to my left to see that he had in fact closed the door behind us.

"Well?" I prompted, my mouth falling into a deep frown. He blinked once in blank confusion.

"'_Well_' what? Oh-! Yes, quite right." He slapped a hand to his forehead. "_Well,_ I can honestly say that I am not a spy, and regrettably I have never met your father. Though I am sure he was among the greatest of gentlemen." He stopped, apparently finished with his reply.

"…And? You have only answered two of my questions."

"Because I am trying to decide how to answer the third." He paused thoughtfully and I narrowed my eyes at him. If he hadn't been following me, then a simple 'no' would have sufficed.

"I suppose I haven't been following you in a technical sense. However, I did go after you briefly, and knew that you would be on this ship. Then I did sign on as a sailor with the specific objective of seeing you. Would you say that that counts?"

"Yes." I looked away. Ok, so he had been following me, but now what? There was really nowhere to run, and I was stuck on a ship with this man for another three months! No police, no prisons, no Jacob next door to beat on anyone who meddled with me. Oh, god! I kept turning my head from side to side, trying to figure out what to do, but I couldn't think of anything. After a moment, he decided to speak again.

"Please don't look so frightened, Miss Alith. I am not hear to hurt you, I jusst needed to thee you again."

What? My head shot back to see the boy in front of me, exactly how he should be. The green eyes had now become nearly completely golden with only a slight ring of green around the edges, the hair was now as bright as the color of fire, and when he smiled at my shocked expression, there was the slightest gap between his two front teeth, though it was smaller than I remembered.

"Tarrant!" I cried, and threw myself across the hall in one small jump into his waiting arms. He laughed in his familiar, jubilant way and I did too. He patted my head and I pressed myself against his chest, breathing in the scent of mercury that was forever saturated into his skin. I didn't care if it was detrimental to my health. I was so happy that he was here! After a moment, I pulled away from him, all my questions trying to get out of my mouth at one time.

"But how did you-I mean, you were-and then I- And how did yo- and then when –why didn't you- why are you- and then he said-"

"One question at a time, Miss Alith, Pleath! I swear I thall tell you everything you with to know!"

"Why did the captain say that your name was Terrence?" I asked, starting with the most irrelevant.

"Actually-"

He was cut off by the sound of men approaching from above. It was difficult to see in the dim light, but Tarrant hurriedly pulled a small bottle from his pocket and took a deep swig of it just as they opened the door. As light flooded the hallway, I saw that Tarrant now looked as he had when I had first arrived on the boat; the picture of normalcy. Well, perhaps not normalcy, but more normal than he would normally appear. Two sailors clamored down the stairs talking loudly about some girl who had apparently left the one sailor for another man just before he left for this voyage. His friend, of significantly smaller stature, was trying to boost the first one's spirits by talking about all the exotic beauties that he was sure to encounter once we reached the Caribbean. I pressed myself against the wall to let them pass, but I don't think that they even knew that I was there. As they turned down another corridor and out of view, I heard the Hatter release a loud breathy sigh of relief.

"That was a bit too close for my tastes." He said pensively, looking back up at the door before returning his attentions to me. I noticed that his lisp was gone again. "Come along, Miss Alice, we'd best be going." He carefully took my hand and began leading me down the hallway to where I thought that the sleeping quarters might be, but frankly it could have been towards the kitchen for all I knew.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Well to your cabin, of course."

Tarrant Hightopp say what?

Hey guys, I know that this chapter ends kinda abruptly and not much happens, but the next scene is very long, so I had to move it into the next chapter. Sorry, but finals end in a week, so I'll be updating a lot more often. I promise. And on the final day of the semester, I shall Futterwacken vigorously!


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is dedicated to Maddie who helped me figure out how exactly the next few chapters should go. She's the only one who can put my thoughts in an order that makes sense when I can't. And I LOVED her stereotypical babblings of "Storm! Storm! There has to be a Storm!" We'll see, Mads.**

**Chapter 3:**

"My cabin?" I asked, half frantic. I stopped walking and he turned back to me, looking a little annoyed as he rambled off a quick explanation.

"Alice, the walls have ears here. Anyone could be walking by at any moment and hear us babbling on about matters of insanity. And as I room with several other men, your cabin is the only truly safe place to speak."

"Oh." I muttered, embarrassed. We continued walking then, with Tarrant slightly holding my hand to lead the way. As we headed down the corridor, we passed a tall, burly sailor with sandy blonde hair going the opposite direction. He slowed his walk as he approached us. His eyes instantly fell to me with a chilling focus. His mouth was set in an eternal frown and his eyes narrowed. My heart pounded loudly and Tarrant's grip on my hand grew tighter. I followed Tarrant's lead when he quickened his pace just as my arm brushed with that of the sailor.

Something was off about that moment. I didn't feel any sort of heat, chill, or electricity, but in that one moment of contact I knew that this man was dangerous. Tarrant paused a moment so that I was standing next to him, then he transferred the hand that was holding to his left and placed his right arm defensively around my waist and continued again with his brisk pace. He didn't look at me, but kept his eyes fixedly in front of us.

"Don't look-" But it was already too late as I turned my head around to look behind us. Sure enough the sailor had stopped moving and was watching us leave over his shoulder. In the dim light I couldn't make out the color of his eyes, but I could feel them piercing me like knives. I took a sharp intake of breath and spun my head back around.

"I told you not to look." The Hatter defended, a small smile on his lips. I rolled my eyes and the encounter was forgotten. In another moment, we reached a large wooden door with a crystal handle. He reached to open it for me like a gentleman, but I got there first. I opened the door and with a flourish of my hand beckoned him in. Hatter smiled and with a small mock curtsey, entered with me directly behind.

The room was much larger than I had expected it to be, to my pleasant surprise, as well as a small porthole to let in considerably more light. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to be a flaying fish; a creature that could both swim _and_ fly? To the left there stood a small bed nailed into the wall with three wooden drawers made beneath it. At the foot of the bed stood the trunk that held my belongings, and the two that held my clothes sat opposite the bed against the right wall. Directly in front of me was my favorite part of the cabin; a large wooden desk like the kind I'd always imagined would belong to a captain in the many pirate books I'd read. A stack of dog eared maps, my ledger for trading, my journal, and a mess of quills and ink bottles were scattered across the top. On a corner of the desk a good sized oil lamp was nailed down. A small open box that contained various games such as cards, checkers, and chess sat by the right side of the desk. I entered one step at a time, in awe of how wonderful this cabin was. The feeling of adventure, of great stories waiting to unfold surrounded me as if it were coming off of the walls.

"So what do you wish to know?" Tarrant asked, yanking me back from my reverie. Quickly reminding myself why I was here, I shut the door and sat cross-legged on the bed as he grabbed the chair from my desk and positioned himself to face me. He stared at me with the innocent eyes of a child, waiting for me to begin my interrogation. I would have liked to just sat and stared at him to try to get used to his new look, but there was much I needed/wanted to know.

"Why did the Captain say that your name was Terrence?" I asked, picking up where we had left off.

"Because he is incompetent. Next?" he answered quickly.

"Well, why is he incompetent?"

"Because I told him that my name is Tarrant, but cannot seem to keep it strait while remaining an imbecile at the same time. Next?"

Actually, for a moment I couldn't remember any of my questions. Before, I had been so anxious to learn everything, but now that I could, my subconscious deemed it as not a high priority. I squeezed my eyes shut and thought back hard and finally they all got into my mind, but I still couldn't decide on an order to ask them in.

"What should I ask you next?" I wondered aloud.

"Why don't you ask all the questions that you can think of, starting at the beginning? Then when you come to the end, stop." His words tickled at my memory, but I couldn't place them. Perhaps I could ask about it later. I sucked in all the air I could and then released the rest of my questions in a single breath.

"How did you get your face to look as it does? I mean, your appearance was so different before. And how did you get here from Underland? _When_ did you get here? Why didn't you come to me before? Why are you here now?" His green eyes widened for a moment, taken aback. Apparently he hadn't expected quite so many questions.

"Well," he said, blinking, "That's an awful lot of awfully good questions. I got here about two weeks ago, that's one week after you left. Everyone was celebrating the defeat of the Jabberwocky and the return of her majesty, the White Queen, to the throne. But I simply could not seem to enjoy any part of it. In fact, after you were gone, I went right back to the Hare's Tea Table to wait for you. I knew you would come back, you had promised you would." I was struck with guilt as he went on with his explanation. He had such blind faith in me, and I am not even sure if I'd ever had any real resolve to go back after I had left. What if I had never gone back? Would he have sat at the Table forever? I never took my eyes off him and tried to keep my expression firm so that he wouldn't notice my sudden change of mood. "Anyway, I sat there for about seven day, just staring at that little teapot with blue detail and that heap of cloth that had been left in it. Then who should come walking down the path but Mirana herself? She said that for my efforts in safely delivering the champion and fighting bravely on the battlefield, that I was owed a reward as well. She asked me what I wanted." My eyes met his for a moment and I think he blushed. He looked away.

"I didn't say anything, just kept looking at that teapot. And you know how Mirana is; she always knows what you're thinking. So she handed me two vials, a small note, and a stack of pounds that you apparently use for money over here. They weren't very heavy…" His voice drifted off, thinking.

"What was in the bottles?" I prompted.

"Bottles? What bottles?"

"The bottles that the White Queen gave you!"

"Have you any idea why a Raven is like Writing Desk?"

"Hatter!"

"-So one of the vials contained a potion that would let me change my appearance to better fit into Overland. The note was a recipe for it so I could make more if need be. The other contained a purple, sticky substance. I'm not entirely sure what it was…" I thought perhaps I should tell him that it was the blood of the Jabberwocky, but then decided against it.

"So you drank the purple one and ended up in England?"

"So I drank the purple one and ended up in England." Unbelievable. Every time he picked up his story again, he continued as if I had never spoken. "I wandered around for a while, looking for you, but everyone seemed rather frightened of me. Then I realized that I still needed to drink the potion! And I did. After that I stayed at a hotel for a while where I heard that you had become an apprentice to a trade company and that you were to embark on a great quest around the world to China and you would be leaving in only about a week! You do tend to work quickly when you are determined.I wouldn't even have the time to track you down and speak with you before you departed! So I signed on as a sailor aboard the Wonder, and now here I am! And here you are as well!"

"How long does the potion last? When we were at the stairs it wore off after only a few moments."

"As far as you saw. No, each potion lasts much longer than an hour. Half a vial will last about a week, and I just downed a full one when those men arrived, so I should be set for half a month."

"But we'll be on the ship for three months. Do you have any more of it?"

"Of course, Miss Alice!" He said, laughing, "I've an entire case to last me well beyond when we will next meet land in America. I can restock on supplies there and be set until we make it to China!" A silence grew between us then, as I had no more questions to ask, and he had no more to answer. We both looked around the cabin, neither of us sure what to say or do next.

"Where is your hat?" I asked, bringing up the first question that came to mind. After asking, I realized I was genuinely interested. "You didn't give it to Cheshire, did you?"

"No, to Cheshire's great displeasure. I took my hat with me and once I arrived I put it in the one place I knew it would be safe."

I cocked my head to the side as my eyebrows knit together. It was a wonderful riddle; what would be the one place that a Mad Hatter would know to be safe? Smiling, Tarrant stood and walked to the trunk at the end of my bed. I hopped off the mattress and followed. I smiled as he slowly opened the lid and sure enough on top of my pile of pictures and books sat the Top Hat that I knew and loved.

"I knew that I could trust you to take care of it." I was touched. I knew that it was his most treasured possession and that fact that he trusted me to look after it really meant something.

"So, have I sufficiently answered the questions that you have requested?" He asked, shutting the lid. I thought on it for a moment.

"All but one," I replied, sitting back down on the bed. He plopped down next to me, a grin on his face and patted his knees, ready to answer any question I might have.

"Why are you here now?" I asked again. His grin fell in a second; it was near comical. The question seemed to be the only one that could have caught him off guard. He straightened and turned away from me to look at the room while he thought of an answer. When he turned back his face was serious.

"I don't truly know. There seem to be so many reasons, but none actually seem to in my mind to be the right one. I was itching for a new adventure, I suppose," he searched my face for a moment, deep in thought before his expression brightened again like that of a small child "And I knew that you would make the most excellent traveling companion!" He took up one of my hands in his and began a new tangent.

"I cannot wait to see the Caribbean, South America, and Asia! I hope we don't run into any pirates on the way. But on the other hand I suppose I do; I am sure they would be the most interesting men to talk to! I wish that some of our friend from back home could meet them as well-" He took up my other hand as well and pulled them nearly against his chest as he continued to babble excitedly. I laughed lightly, I was certain to be kept completely entertained over the course of the voyage with this man on my ship.

And that was the moment that a cabin boy through open the door proclaiming "Miss Kinsley, the captain-" and then stopping short as he took in the sight of Me, The Hatter, and our joined hands sitting on my bed.

0.0

(that's what I think the cabin boy's face looked like)


	4. Chapter 4

**I dedicate this chapter to my Mom for not grounding me for the rest of my life when she walked in to find me at the computer, typing and sniffing a bottle of brandy. Instead she asked me what I was doing, asked if she should be concerned, looked at me like I was crazy, and then walked away. **

**Note: For the feel of the last 2 paragraphs I recommend listening to 'Time Forgets' by Yiruma.**

**Chapter 4:**

Tarrant stared at the cabin boy and dropped my hands without moving. My heart started pounding in my chest. I had nothing to be embarrassed about, I was just conversing with my friend, but I felt instantly ashamed of the scene that we had unwittingly laid out for the boy. The Hatter's face was beginning to turn red; not because he was embarrassed, but because he was holding his breath, completely frozen. Not one of the three of us could move!

Then I remembered something that Margaret had told me years ago. Now, my sister had always been sensible and to a young child seemed to be quite a kill-joy, but on occasion I was able to catch her doing something that she shouldn't have. One time I'd been spying on her in the garden with a kitchen boy when our cook, Annie, came out looking for him. Once they had been caught Margaret didn't panic as I was now, she had simply stood with her normal air of sophistication and told the cook to carry on. Later when I had asked her about it she told me (after she chided me for spying) that 'You have never done anything wrong until you look as though you have.'

So I stood slowly with a grand air of sophistication mimicking that of my sister's. "Yes?" I asked the boy, folding my hands in front of me. "What do you want?"

The boy was taken aback, pulled from his thoughts by the sound of my voice. "Oh-uh-uh- yes…I-uh-I mean, the-uh- captain! He-uh-" I felt bad the boy as he stammered on. He could be no older than thirteen. His skin was pale, his hands worn, and he bore freckles across his face which was partially obscured by his mess of sandy blonde hair. He wouldn't look at me or Tarrant, but instead focused on the door handle and wrung his hands together.

I shook my head at him and smiled. In two steps I made my way over to where he stood and leaning over to be at his height I laid my hands on his shoulders. The contact stopped his stuttering dead for a moment and he turned his large eyes to me; they were hazel with purple bruises under them from lack of sleep. He reminded me of myself when I had been younger; always haunted my memories that came to me under the shadow of night.

"What did the captain want?" I asked.

"He wanted to know if you, being the only woman on board, would prefer to dine with the crew or take supper in your quarters." My smile grew when I heard his stutter relieved. I straightened up again and took a step back to deliberate. But the Hatter stood and answered for me.

"Actually Miss Kingsley has much to do this evening-trade records and all that- so she shall be taking her supper in her room tonight." He walked past me without so much as glancing to see if I agreed to this, and ushered the boy out.

"Wait a moment-" I started in protest, but he had already pushed the boy out of my cabin and shut the door behind him. He sighed looking down at his hand still on the crystal handle and said nothing. He was obviously worried or upset about something. "What did you do that for?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips. He looked up at me and pushed away from the door, his face serious.

"I know you don't tend to listen to me on matters that involve your safety, but please for once will you let me have some piece of mind and eat in here? I don't trust some of these men and I would feel much better if you would just stay in here as much as possible. Or if not here, then at least stay on the deck where someone can keep an eye on you." I couldn't tell if he was insulting my strength or my intelligence, but either way I was offended.

"I think that I am more than capable-" I was cut off by a timid knock on the door. Tarrant opened it with an air of frustration. It was the cabin boy again.

"Uh sir, I think you ought to be getting back to work before the captain realizes you're gone."

Tarrant shut the door in the boy's face.

"You really had best be going." I said after a moment, being reasonable.

"Yes, I suppose I had…" He opened the door and made to leave, but then turned back around and came up to me, taking my hands again. "_Please_ promise me that you will try to stay in here?" I didn't want to make such a promise, but I made the mistake of looking into his face. His eyes were sad and worried, his mouth pulled into a frown in a combination that formed a puppy dog face to melt the heart of any ice queen.

"I promise." I vowed, sighing in defeat. He smiled and it lit up his whole face. I couldn't help it when a corner of my mouth pulled up as well and the Hatter took his leave with a lovely flourishing bow.

I stayed true to my resolve for the next several hours. I ate in my room, studied charts for a while, and watched out the porthole until all I could see was black. But after so many hours of no one to speak to and nothing to look at besides a wood floor, wood ceiling, wood walls, wood desk, wood bunk, wood trunk, and wood boxes, I became insatiably bored and increasingly curious as to what was happening on deck at this time of night or what kind of stars I could see from the ocean? Did the waves reflect the moonlight? Were there still men on deck forced to work into the late hours of darkness? Did mer-people come out at night? Was the air thick with dew without any grass to cling to? Would it cling to the beard of a sailor?

I was ashamed of myself and I kept telling myself that I wasn't going to do it, but eventually I opened my door with the caution of a child sneaking downstairs Christmas morning, and headed down the hallway to where I knew the steps would be. The corridor was actually better lit now than it had been previously as the lamps that lined the walls had been dimly lit. I felt like a ghost. I met no one and besides the creaking of the boards, there came no sounds from any direction.

The door seemed heavier than it had in the day as I pushed it open and then shut it behind me. Again, it made no sound. I took a deep breath as I saw the night sky and stepped out on the deck in a dream-state. It was incredible; I had never seen the stars so bright or a moon so large and welcoming. The moon was large and wide like a row boat. I could perfectly picture Artemis sitting in it with one hand over the edge to touch the waters of her starry sky. I imagined her noticing me watching her and smiling at me with her sage smile and wild eyes; the patron goddess of all women who stand alone. A soft, dew filled breeze picked up when I smiled back at her. The ocean lapped at the sides of the ship, lulling me into a different world. I crossed my arms to keep warm as I had forgotten my jacket and I felt…well I suppose I can't answer that. I don't know how I felt; there is no feeling to define it. Safe with a hint of danger, mystery swirling around you in a warm whirlwind, innocence, fear, curiosity and Hope. Perhaps I _felt_ adventure. Is that possible?

I was pulled out of my dreams by a stumble from behind me followed by a grunt. Spinning to face the newcomer, I found the large, burly man who I had met in the hall. His hair was slightly askew and he had trouble standing, after closer examination I figured out why. He clung to the railing of the ship with one hand and a half empty bottle in the other. Brandy, I could smell its distinct scent halfway across the deck; the stinging of alcohol mixed with a subtle…smoothness of like an almond or hazelnut. I looked around quickly to see if I could find a man on watch, but I knew in the pit of my stomach that this was the man on watch. I froze and prayed he didn't notice me.

Of course my prayers went unanswered. The man turned to take another swig from his bottle and saw me standing there like a deer trapped in a hunter's crosshairs. In my reverie I had wandered to near the center of the deck by the mast and he was far closer to the door than I. Even in his drunkenness I wouldn't be able to beat him there. He pushed away from the rails, stumbling slightly and walked toward me.

"ell ello der mish moushy. Joying de nigh hair?" His words came out slurred and mushy, I was hardly able to make out what he was trying to say. But I think that he was trying to compare me to some mouse.

I didn't respond, but I continued to take a step back for every step he took towards me and tried to maneuver myself around the mast and get myself closer to the door than him so I could make a run for it. I didn't take my eyes off of his black ones and as I moved away from him I came to a realization that he was enjoying this. He knew what I was trying to do and he was just toying with me to let me think I had a chance of getting away. He smirked.

That's when I ran; I wasn't as close to the door as I had hoped to be, but it was now or never. I bolted across the boards and made it farther than I had expected, but not far enough. I was halfway there when his arm wrapped around me from behind. I shrieked as in one sweeping motion of his arm he threw me back towards the mast. I stumbled and fell halfway on my side, using my left hand to hold me up. He walked toward me, his build towering over me and blocking out the goddess and her moon. I narrowed my eyes in anger and concentration and when he got close enough I aimed a kick with my right foot for his shin. He crouched down, caught my boot and laughed as I tried futilely to yank it back.

"Let. Me. GO!" I yelled, using my other foot to kick him in his ugly face. He yelped in pain and clutched his face, releasing my foot from his hold. Getting up, I ran past him and tried again to make it to the door. Again he caught me.

This time he grabbed my wrist so hard I thought he might snap my bones. I couldn't run, So I turned to face him and tried to punch his face in the same motion, but I aimed too low and got him in the throat instead. He was taken aback for a second, but his grip didn't loosen and when recovered he slapped me. Hard.

I fell.

"That's going to cost you, Mousy." He threatened.

My world was starred for a moment. I was vaguely aware as he grabbed my other wrist and half dragged/half carried me towards the wall by the door. I tried to fight, moreso as I became more aware of what was happening, but he was in control now. He slammed my back against the wall and I hit my head again. Then I was fully aware.

"_Let me go_!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I squirmed and tried to get loose, but he gave me no leeway. If I tried to get away, he just shoved me against the wall and laughed. Where was a Vorpal sword when you needed one? "_**HELP**_!" I screamed, even louder.

He wasn't having any of that. He pressed one hand against my throat to hold me in place and silence my cries. I was still able to breathe, barely, but the largest sound I would have been able to make would be a mouse squeak. His other hand got busy loosening the tie from my throat and ripping buttons off my shirt.

'Oh God,' I begged 'Please No.' I opened my eyes to see the moon once more. Tears welled up in my eyes as I pictured Artemis drawing her bow and aiming it directly at the heart of my attacker. If only. His grip on my throat was tightening; I couldn't breathe. I saw her arrow released.

Suddenly he was off of me and flying across the deck. He smacked into a stack of crates and dented several when he made impact. I fell to my knees, looking down and took in the sweet night air.

"Yer really shouldn't 'ave done that, mate." Oh dear. I knew that voice. Sure enough , when I looked up my savior had his back to me, strategically placing himself between me and the man. I saw the sailor's face from where he lay, staring up at Tarrant, stricken by terror. I knew what he was seeing; the look of a man who loved torture with a small smirk and glowing orange eyes aimed directly at him.

The hatter stepped towards the man with a confident swagger. The sailor shook his head, begging Tarrant not to do whatever it was that he was thinking about doing. But there was no stopping him. With no effort at all, he picked the sailor by his throat with one hand and pinned him against the mast. He sniveled in fear.

"Would you dare treat a Lady like that?" He asked tilting his head to the side. More sniveling. With his other hand the hatter shook the sailor's head for him. I didn't know what he was planning and my better instincts told me to go downstairs and leave Tarrant to his own devices, but I had never really been one for following those and I couldn't let my friend have a murder on his hands. So slowly, ever so slowly, I approached them.

"Look at me." He ordered the sailor, but the man couldn't do it. "Look at me!" He ordered again. This time the sailor did. "What do you see in my eyes? Do you see the fires of Hell? Do you see a man who would kill for his own pleasure? Steal a woman for his own pleasure?" His anger grew with each word and with his free hand he reached into his boot and pulled out a small knife. Slowly lifted it up and let it play in the light in front of the sailor's face. I hurried my pace to a run.

"Tarrant, no!" I yelled, grabbing his arm. He didn't look at me, but he let the man go. He fell to his knees and clutched his throat as I had done.

"Alice is under _my _protection." he warned and grabbed my hand to lead me away.

I felt ashamed as we walked down the hall. He held my hand and walked at a brisk pace like my mother used to do whenever I was in trouble for doing something truly dreadful. He must have been furious at me for breaking my promise. I shouldn't have been up there, I should have listened to him and stayed in my room where I belonged. Would he ever trust me again? With my free hand I tried to hold the top half of my blouse closed, the buttons were gone. I had never felt so ashamed and exposed. I started to tear up again.

When we reached my room he opened the door and yanked me inside, shutting the door behind us. I was ready for the verbal lashing of my life, but I was shocked when he did the complete opposite. He turned to me to say something, finally, but then took in my disheveled appearance; my crying eyes, my dirty skirt and half opened blouse that I was still trying to keep closed, bruised cheek and messy hair. From the look of his face I know he hadn't intended to say anything mean, but now that he saw me in real light, his words escaped him. Instead he took off his coat and wrapped it around me, pulled me into his arms, sat us on the bed, and let me cry on his shoulder.

We sat there for hours, me crying silently into his shirt and him murmuring sweet nothings in my ear about how everything was going to be alright, he wasn't going anywhere, he would never let anyone hurt me, that that man would never look at me again. Everything was going to be alright. And eventually with the rocking of the boat and the safety of my friend, that was where I fell asleep.

(Mom walks in to find SPC at computer sniffing a bottle of brandy)

Mom:…what are you doing?

SPC: (offers bottle of brandy) Can you describe how this smells to you?

Mom:…why? I can't describe stuff, that's your department.

SPC: How much would it take to get a sailor drunk on brandy?

Mom: Not much, like half a bottle? Wait-what sailor?

SPC: (rolls eyes) fictional sailor.

Mom:…fictional…sailor…?

SPC: You see, I have this fanfiction page-

Mom: I'm not even gonna ask. (pause) Should I be concerned about this? (motions to bottle)

SPC: (shrugs) Not really.

Mom: Ok, then. (exits)


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Luke who is taking me fencing tomorrow.**

**Intellectual tidbit that everyone should know: The Twilight series' Edward was named after two characters in 'Jane Eyre'; Edward Rochester and the crazy wife he keeps locked in the attic, Bertha Antoinetta Mason. Edward's full name is Edward Anthony Mason Cullen. **

**Chapter 5:**

The next morning I woke up alone. The sun was already pouring in through the porthole and nearly blinded me when I tried to open my eyes. Groaning, I reached to pull the covers back over my head when I heard a small something hit the floor. I ran a hand through my mess of hair to push it out of my face and leaned over the edge of my bunk to discover a spindle of pale blue thread that had been placed in my palm when I was asleep. I smiled.

When I reached over the edge of the bunk to pick up the trinket, I supported my weight on one hand and instantly fell back as a rush of pain shot up my arm. Right, I had almost had my wrist snapped last night. I mentally took an inventory of any other injuries I might have sustained and found I also hurt my right ankle, my left cheekbone, and that my throat was incredibly sore. With a heavy sigh I got out of bed and looked at myself. I still wore my clothes from last night; the half ripped blouse was now kept shut by several washpins in place of where the buttons should have been to help keep my modesty.

How could the real world be so cold? I thought, removing the pins and loosening the buttons so that I could get changed. I was nineteen years old and not once in my life had something so horrible nearly happened to me. And it would have happened too if Tarrant hadn't been there to save me. This couldn't keep up; I couldn't rely on being saved for the rest of my life. What would happen the next time? What is he couldn't be there to come to my rescue? I was going to have to learn to protect myself and I was going to have to learn quickly.

I changed quickly another blue skirt with vertical black stripes sewn into it and a white blouse with black buttons, lining, and cuffs. I also put on some black lace gloves that buttoned in the back. I threw a look at the circular mirror that hung on the wall to see that my hair was a complete wreck, but frankly I didn't feel like bothering with it today so I racked a brush through it before tying it back at the base of my neck with a black ribbon from my trunk. My reflection was tired and she had a large bruise along her cheekbone. I felt sorry for her. For a brief moment I considered using some of the makeup that mother had insisted I bring, but if I was going to show that I was strong and would stand my own against anyone, I was going to have to start today. So with a small, determined nod at my reflection, I opened my door and headed up to the deck.

The sunlight hurt my eyes and I put up a hand to protect my sight when I opened the door. There was far more activity on the deck this morning than there had been yesterday. Everyone appeared to be in an uproar. Some sailors were cleaning and trying to keep their heads down, others were up on the mast messing with the sails, others were pulling on ropes or carrying crates that didn't need to be moved. I didn't understand what was going on. Then I noticed the sound of the captain screaming at the top of his lungs standing near the wheel. When I looked around again I noticed how all the men were pretending to be busy while gravitating to the opposite side of the deck. My eyebrows pulled together in confusion and I began walking toward the commotion when someone grabbed my arm.

"Trust me, ma'am, over there is the last place that you want to be." It was the cabin boy again, looking up at me with those big hazel eyes full of worry.

"What's happening?" I asked in a hushed tone. Though I don't know why; there was no way the captain could hear me over his own screaming.

"I'm not sure, but I'll bet that that new guy is bound to get a lashing! Poor fellow." He dropped my arm and went back to mopping beside three other men, all of them keeping their eyes pointed to the wooden floor.

New guy? Oh dear. Without a moment's hesitation I hiked up my skirts and ran to the other end of the deck as fast as I could, ignoring the pain in my ankle. Sure enough, as I got closer I could see that the captain was using all his energy yelling his head off at Tarrant who stood before him with his hands folded and eyes downcast. For a second in my mind I had a horrid flashback to that day in the Red Queen's court and sure enough where would have stood the Nave, standing right behind the captain with a cruel and happy smile, was the sailor who I had encountered last night.

"What is going on here?" I demanded when I reached them. All three of their eyes turned to me in unison; The Hatter looking over his shoulder with an expressionless face, the Captain freezing his speech and looking at me with his arms still raised in anger and his face red from yelling, and the Drunk He took his eyes from Tarrant to me without moving and hardened his expression into the most frightening thing I had ever seen when his black eyes bored into my core. My heart dropped, but I wouldn't let him know so I hardened my expression to mirror his and looked straight back at him. I wouldn't let him win.

"Alice, leave." The Hatter whispered, only for my ears. I glanced at him and stood firm. I had abandoned him once to be executed and I wasn't about to do it again.

"Well?" I challenged, lifting my chin as I turned my attentions to the Captain. "It is a lovely morning and you are wasting it yelling at this man. Why?" The man got over his shock and began throwing his arms and yelling again as he explained.

"This man _**broke**_ into _my_ office, _**stole **_three bottles of _my_ Brandy, and then in his drunkenness tried to _**kill**_ my **first mate!**"

"_**WHAT?"**_ I asked, scoffing. I didn't know what I was more in shock over; the story that this man was stringing, or that the man who had tried to hurt me last night had been his first mate!

"Are you telling me that you think Tarrant was the one who did all of this when you've some bulky…Brute standing right next to you?" I angrily started to approach the captain and his henchman ready to start fighting, but Hatter grabbed me by the arm and held me fast to his side.

"I can handle this." He muttered, turning his head away from them.

"This man has stood by me for nearly fifteen years now, and I am not about to abandon the words of my true friend based on some slapdash sailor who clamored aboard three days ago! He has saved my life more times than I can count!" The captain announced, slapping his hand on the first mate's shoulder. He never took his eyes from me, but if he had he would have seen the victorious evil smirk that he wore beneath his coal-black eyes.

"I must have posed a real threat to you last night!" I accused, showing the captain my cheek.

He was truly surprised when I showed him this, but with flash of an amused smile, the first man leaned over and whispered something in the captain's ear that cleared the whole story up for him. He instantly accepted whatever he had been told and leaned back on his heels to try to make himself look taller and stared down his straight nose at me with a look of disapproval.

"I was told what an imaginative child you were before we left port. I am willing to let your silver tongue slide this time, but if you ever string a story against one of my crew to cover your clumsiness, I will be sure to see you dumped off at the next port." He glanced at Tarrant still holding my arm "And you sir had better keep yourself and your cat out of my cabin from here on in. That is all." He turned sharply on his heels and walked away, dismissing the entire incident. The first mate made a mocking meowing noise at me and then followed.

"I'll show you imaginative!" I spat, trying even harder to break myself from Tarrant's hold. Being a light weight man, it was a fairly even fight…until he pulled too hard and sent both of us toppling backwards down the stairs.

The entire world spun for a few brief seconds and I grew a little disorientated of exactly which way was up. After blinking a few times I heard a groan from under me and realized that I was laying face down on top of Tarrant. I felt an instant surge of guilt when I saw that he had broken my fall…

"Sorry!" I said loudly and pushed against his chest with both my hands to get up. Again the pain burned up my arm like a flash of lightning and I clutched my wrist, collapsing on top of him once more. Another groan. "Sorry." I said again, my voice muffled against his shirt. It was strange…without the potion he had smelled of mercury and tea, just as I had always remembered; but with it his scent changed into something more…wild. It was like freshly cut grass and fir needles mixed with a sort of metallic or salty smell.

"Quite all right." He assured me, and then kindly rolled me onto my side and off of him. He sat up quickly, literally jumped to his feet, and then took my good hand to help me up. I dusted off my skirts and began to rant.

"I ought to go back and give that man a piece of my mind. How dare he call me some imaginative little child? And he called me a cat as well-a cat! I mean, really, if he had ever crossed passed with the Cheshire cat, he wouldn't be so quick to dismiss them as-"

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" Hatter asked, cutting me off. I closed my mouth and my eyebrows pulled together; honestly I had no idea. "You just made an enemy of one of the most powerful men on this ship! He already seemed out to destroy me, but now he's got his hooks into you as well! Why on EARTH did you have to go and agitate him like that?"

I blinked once in surprise. His words had taken me completely off guard; I didn't know what to say and as such remained silent. He sighed in frustration and turned away from me, pulling a hand through his mess of red hair. He was acting more like a normal person now than I had ever seen him before. He was angry with me like so many had been before and he reacted in the same way, by looking away from me. Everyone was like that with me, except for one; my father. Hatter used to remind me of him when I had first met him. He had been happy, carelessly so, and as free to laugh as others were to breath air. So why was he acting like this now? In a second, surprise and hurt turned to anger.

"What's happened to you?" I asked before I could stop myself. "You were never like this before. You've taken on armies with a smirk and a clever word, but here when one man poses a threat to you, you start panicking as if there is no hope for you." He turned back to me with the same frustrated look until her saw my injured expression. When he saw the angry tears starting to well up in my eyes his look mirrored what mine must have been a moment before. "Why?" I asked.

"It's not me that I'm worried about okay, it's…" He paused, as if rethinking what he should say. "It's you."

"You don't have to worry about me."

"Yes I do. I can't be around to protect you every second and one moment is all it takes if I'm not there. Look at last night; I hate to think would have happened if I hadn't been there to stop that mud-eating, wrelter crawling, bandbuggy thatcher son of a motherless-"

"-Hatter!" I yelled.

"fez." He choked out, dropping the accent and returning to his normal eye color.

"You don't have to worry about me. Nothing can hurt me here and I dare anyone to try because together, we're invincible." I smiled and he returned it with his half mad glee just like before.

"Come on, let's get some breakfast." I offered, taking his hand carelessly in mine and walking back towards the door that led to the lower decks and where I knew the kitchen was.

But I couldn't help but notice out of the corner of my eye the way that Tarrant looked cautiously over the deck as he followed…

Oh dear, things don't seem to be going very well here, do they? Tarrant is in trouble, Alice has now drawn even more attention to herself, and the trip has just begun. (sighs) It may turn out to be a long trip for the both of them.

I cannot tell you how many times I have tried rewriting different parts of this chapter. I had some serious writers' block that I had to try to work through. But now I think the scene is set, the pace can pick up, and the words will begin coming naturally again.

Unfortunately, I will be trapped in an area with no internet service for the next several weeks due to a family reunion, so I may not be updating for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is dedicated to Niphuria because she made my mom ecstatic when I told her that one of my reviewers thought she was cool.**

**Chapter 6:**

The kitchen was down the stairs and to the right, but basically if you just followed the smell of burning salt and smoke, you could find it. Also if you wished to find the toilets you just followed the smell of…well, let's not delve into that at the moment. Needless to say, I was able to lead Tarrant to there without any troubles, despite never having been there myself. I knew that he was still worried, but I couldn't think of anything to do for him at the moment. So my plan was to sit him down, get some food into him, and brainstorm a solution that fit us both and that we could deal with for three months. I can tell you now that there was no way that I would follow Hatter's wishes and keep myself locked in my cabin for the entire duration of the journey.

I was surprised by how incredibly small and cramped the area was where food was prepared for all of the sailors on board. It could only be about the size of my entire cabin; it merely consisted of several cabinets and drawers, a large stove and a washbasin. Onions, peppers, and spices hung from the ceiling and walls from bent nails in an overly crowded fashion and in the center of all this crowded chaos stood the chef himself. I contemplated him with my head tilted to one side; with his back to me and Tarrant in the entryway, he reminded me of a much larger version of Teedledee or Tweedledum with his very rounded shape and spherical head it was reminiscent of a snowman. When he turned to the side, still busy with his work, I was able to see his face and the connection to my twin friends was strengthened. Not in his features, for they were much more prominent with a straight, pronounced nose and heavy lidded eyes covered by noble eyebrows, but with the emotion that I read there. His small, full lips were pulled into the shadow of a smile, so much so that if I hadn't been looking I never would have seen it and though his eyebrows pulled down in concentration to his work, there was a laughing quality about them that made one feel happy…perhaps that is not the right word…nurtured to be in his company. He seemed very fatherly to me in his nook of a kitchen and for a moment I lost entirely lost in recollections of my own father. God, how I missed him.

A small squeeze on my hand by Tarrant brought me back to where I was and I stepped to the side a little to let him lead the way from here as he was likely acquainted with this man while I was not. He gave me a sweet almost pitying smile when he walked past as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had been leading me. I felt a dampness in my eyes at the expression; I didn't want his pity for what I had gone through in the past. The life had been wonderful with Charles Kingsley in it, and then horrible once he had been ripped from it. There were many things that I had wished to have had he guidance on when I couldn't turn to him and I had been cold and much lesser of a human being. But that life was over now; my new life was beginning and I now held the pen to write my own story.

In my musings I had entirely missed a brief one sided exchange from Tarrant to the cook who pointed with the knife he was holding towards a large table past the other exit of his nook where there were piles of food for the sailors to ingest whenever they found the time to eat. There was dried fruits, biscuits, salted jerky and other various foods laid out for the choice. I had awoken late and missed the actual breakfast as most of the sailors were up before dawn, but this would have to suffice for the present time. Besides, it wasn't really the food that I had come down here for.

"So," I asked Tarrant once we were seated, "How are we going to solve this?"

"Lock you in your room for three months and pray that he doesn't have a key?"

"I knew that you would say that. No."

Silence commenced as we both tried to find something that would satisfy all of our needs; his need to know that I'm safe and know where I am at all times, and my need of fresh air and occupation as well as safety. Both of us also needed to be able to spend some time together; I wanted to know everything about Underland and he needed to know everything about Overland. Underland, Overland, was there ever just a place called 'land'?

I heard a loud, quick clattering as someone scurried down the stairs and then ran into the kitchen. I turned my head to see who it was and found the cabin boy running excitedly through the kitchen and towards the food.

"Good morning, Fry!" He called as he breezed past the cook. Arriving at the table, he grabbed a biscuit and sat, chomping down with ravenous force. He didn't even notice me watching him until he had already taken an enormous bite, but when he did he instantly became the self conscious and timid boy that I had encountered before. He didn't say anything, but he shrank down in his seat and made sure to look down at the wood of the table. I was curious as to why he was so afraid of me and I opened my mouth to ask, but Tarrant gave one loud cough to ask me to return my attentions to him and the problem at hand.

"What if we got you a dog; a large one who would bite anyone who came too close?"

I paused, wondering if he was honestly giving this as a solution. Only when I saw he was serious did I reply.

"We are in the middle of the ocean." My tone was sharper than I had intended and I felt bad as he ducked his head like a scolded child, nearly mimicking the cabin boy. I wanted to apologize, but this was all so frustrating that I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I leaned back, looked into space with a sad expression and continued. "There has to be a way to make this work. You can't protect me and I can't be caged like a bird. We don't have access to a dog or a bodyguard, we don't know where the first mate will be at any given time, or where you'll be, or where I'll be for that matter. I can't just arrange myself around him and the captain or make myself invisible and we don't know where the other sailors will be to be witnesses to deter the first mate from doing something."

"Well this conversation is certainly encouraging." Tarrant said with a dry air. I met his eyes and my heart felt a pang. I didn't know it at the time, but something changed in that fraction of a second; in that one look that made me more connected to him than I had ever been to anyone in my entire life. His utter concern for my well being without even thinking about how his own may be in jeopardy as well made my heart hurt in a way that I had never known. His shocking green eyes saw into my mind and my soul without my ever having to let them in and I saw in them a resolve that made me feel safe, but also terrified me. In his eyes I saw that this man who could have spent no more than a few hours with me in his entire life was willing to do whatever it took, even lay down his life if need be, in order to protect me.

"What about a schedule?" We were both pulled from the moment by the suggestion that came from further down the table on Tarrant's side. Sure enough the cabin boy, biscuit in hand, had slid himself so that he now sat right beside the Hatter and had included himself in our conversation.

"How would a schedule help us?" Hatter asked before I could.

"Well, you both sit down and write down a schedule of where the lady will be at each time of the day. You make sure to include time where she can be up on deck, spending time in the kitchen, in her cabin, etcetera, and be sure that you both have a copy so that you can keep an eye on her whenever you have time. Have you both got pocket watches?" Tarrant patted his pocket where I knew his gold watch still sat and I touch a hand to my throat where I wore a locket that was in fact a small watch on a long chain. "Well, in that case, this should be simple so long as you keep your schedules and watches with you!" He smiled and so did we. It was a strange solution, but it should work swimmingly.

"What is your name, son?"

"Eustace. Eustace Pippinton." He straightened with pride in his name.

"Where are your parents?" I asked, suddenly struck by the question. I was surprised that any parent would allow their son to go sailing around the world at so young an age.

"I haven't got any, Ma'am. Mum died giving birth to me and my father cast me off when I was twelve. He couldn't afford me and keep drinking, so he made his choice and sent me off to a workhouse. But then Fry here found me on my way to the shipyard one day and offered me a job here aboard the 'Wonder'. Now here I am!" He didn't speak with sadness at what he had been through, but rather with joy for where he was. His personality was so similar to the Hatter's; the two could have been brothers.

"'Fry'?" I asked, half to Eustace and half to the cook, just a few feet away "Is that short for something?"

"No one knows what his real name is." Eustace replied mysteriously. "The story is that one time, a man insulted his cooking, so Fry cut out his tongue, fried it up, and served it back to him!" It was a frightening enough story, and with his tall stature, I might have almost believed it, if it weren't for Fry's amused smile and half laugh at hearing it told, still not looking up from his work. I waited a moment for him to speak up and tell us his real name, or tell us why he was called 'Fry', but his said nothing, but continued to laugh with a closed mouth and moved to another part of his nook.

"Can he speak?" I whispered to Tarrant, leaning close to avoid being heard less I offend him.

"Oh, he can. He just always chooses not to." He replied dismissively. I shrugged and picked up a dried apple and took a timid bite. It tasted fine, but it was not something that I would choose to devour every morning.

Here entered one of the funniest looking men that I had ever encountered in Overland. A tall, skinny, middle aged man wandered in with a big yawn and tired eyed telling us that he had only just awoke and would still rather be in bed. He stood approximately 5' 11'', but it was hard to tell with his slouched shoulders, and maybe weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. His hair line had receded to the center of his head making it look as though he were wearing a mousy brown hood that only half covered his head (which was oval shaped and too large for his skinny body). He had fishy eyes the color of seaweed that were half covered by a pair of square spectacles that sat at the end of his hooked nose. His mouth was a long, thin pink line that stretched directly under one pupil to the other. He was in no way a seafaring man and I was at a loss as to why he could be on the ship- an accountant, perhaps?

"Good morning, Fry." He extended tiredly as he past him. Fry smiled in reply and then nodded to a mug of the counter that the man picked up with a grin. "The blackest Joe that you've got. You're a good man, Fry." Then taking a swig, his eyes widened like saucers to add to their fish-like appearance and added in a choked voice "A _very_ good man."

Taking another swig from the mug he then proceeded to the benches with the rest of us, removing a book from the inside of his pocket as he walked, a battered copy of Stevenson's _Kidnapped_. I turned back to Tarrant and Eustace to begin work on such a schedule and try to identify and deal with any faults when his steps stopped. I turned back to find him eyeing me with a confused look through his spectacles, the entire top half of his body leaned my direction to turn his body into one large question mark.

"Well, Hello there." He said to me with sheer fascination before taking a seat on the bench just a bit to close to me for comfort and studying me through his spectacles as though I were some rarity from across the world.

I quickly spun my head forward to face Tarrant and mouthed _what should I do_? One corner of his mouth pulled down, annoyed, and he just shook his head and gave a dismissive hand gesture telling me that he did this sort of thing all the time. But I could still see him staring at my profile out of the corner of my eye, so his reply did little to comfort me.

"Hi." I replied awkwardly without looking at him.

"My name is Dr. Lawrence Haberdash, the ship's doctor." He must have been very proud of his profession if he felt the need to say it twice in one sentence. He extended his hand in greeting and unwillingly I shook it and gave him a weak smile.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"You have a very British profile, Ma'am, but with a very Swedish hairline. Your wrists have all the smallness and grace of a Frenchwoman's and eyes that could not be mistaken for anything other than Welsh. It makes for a lovely personage, but everything in your very posture and manner is British-quite boring. Still, I am sure that deep within you there is a wildness from your foreign ancestry." I gave him a dark look to ask him to stop treating me as a specimen under a magnifying glass.

"Ah-there it is!" he exclaimed excitedly. "With a wilderness such as that in you, how could Tarrant not have lost his heart? Indeed, you shall have beautiful children together one day." I was nothing short of shocked at the man's blatant lack of propriety! Where had he come up with these things? My mouth literally dropped and I turned to Tarrant who was glaring at the doctor looking just as confused as I was.

I searched through my mind for any way to get out of there immediately and get away from the kooky doctor.

"Eustace! Would you care to go with Tarrant and myself to work out the schedule as it was your brilliant idea?" The boy's face lit up and he nodded in reply.

"It's settled then. Let's go." I stood hastily, jostling the doctor in my hurry.

When we walked back out of the kitchen nook, Tarrant grabbed three apples from a barrel and stopped a moment to juggle them. Normally I would have been amused to discover this new talent of his, but at the moment all I did was put my hands on my hips and tap my foot impatiently. I threw a look back at the doctor and he was still examining me from afar over his spectacles. When I returned my attentions to Tarrant, he tossed all three apples in the air at once and as they each came down, he bumped the first off of his elbow to me (which I barely caught), hit the second an open palm over his head to land in Eustace's hands, and caught the third with his free hand and took a huge bite. I couldn't hold back the small smile that pulled up the left side of my mouth as I grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him out of the kitchen.

Leaving the dining hall behind, we took a brief detour to my cabin where I grabbed a wood pencil and two sheets of loose paper before our trio headed up to the deck to work in the sunlight. We were going to have to work quickly because the boys would have to return to work soon and Tarrant at least couldn't afford to be in more trouble today, especially because of me. When we reached a spot that was out of the way of passing sailors, we sat and tried to work out a plan.

"So," I asked again, "How are we going to solve this?"

Who would have thought that people in Overland were just as weird as people in Underland?

I hope you guys had fun reading this chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: This chapter in dedicated to all those who have reviewed. I have left a personal message for each of you at the bottom of the chapter. **

**Chapter 7:**

The schedule worked out quite well for the next couple of months; so well, in fact, that I scarcely ever saw the first mate. But when I did, I was sure to give him a dark look a smirk that mocked 'I know something you don't know.' I did feel very safe and with all my time divided out for the most part among people I gained several new friends.

I was not allowed to leave my cabin before 7am, but since I hardly ever awoke before then, that was not a problem to obey. At 7:15 if I was not awake, Eustace would walk by my door and knock so that I didn't throw off the entire schedule by sleeping too long and worry Tarrant in the process. I would then dress and at 7:30 I would stop at the kitchen and grab a snack before heading up to the deck where both Tarrant and Eustace would be working. I felt almost gleeful at this time as I imagined that I was part of some great conspiracy with my small secret. Tarrant felt the same way and we would always continually glance at each other with a small smile or a laugh for having so cleverly outwitted the mate. At this time in the schedule I never brought a book with, but rather admired the ocean or asked the other sailors about their work and the running of the ship. Whenever Eustace had a moment, he and I would exchange a quick word and soon he lost all of his initial apprehension of me. In fact, he and I shared many common interests; he too wanted to travel the world over and have grand adventures over the expanse of his life. He wanted to learn how to sword fight and how to read (he could already do so a little, but he was not proficient at it). Indeed, everything in the world held some sort of fascination for him and he wanted to learn everything about it. Sometimes his innocence and imagination would startle me and I wondered if that was how I had been as a child.

After two hours on deck, I went below to help Fry in the kitchen. Being a ship's cook was a big job and he enjoyed my company…I think. He never said anything to me of like or dislike, but he just kept about his work, smiled or responded nonverbally when I asked him things and continued being…Fry. In his way, he had a very fatherly presence with the way that he would glance with one eyebrow raised whenever I spun a story for past the point of believability or just the smallest gestures that he didn't think I noticed. Almost everyday there would be some small treat laid out for me when I came down to help him that hadn't been there when I had come by at 7:30 or how whenever a sailor made a pass at me, somehow his meal would be tampered with until it was nearly inedible. Every day I helped him with getting the mid day meal ready for the men and assisted with cleanup and each day I felt like I was getting a little closer to unveiling the mystery that was chef Fry. Eventually we got to the point where he would even nod or shake his head if I asked him a yes or no question. But, every time that I tried to turn the 'conversation' to his past or his namesake, all I got was a shrug.

So that occupied my time from approximately 9:30 to 2:30 in the afternoon and then the day became torturous. Because between the hours of 2 and 7 neither Tarrant nor Eustace knew where they would be or what tasks they would be asked to perform so I was caged up in my cabin for five hours. Each day the time seemed to pass slower and slower until I was to the point of madness. I read each of my books over and over, I played thousands of games of solitaire, and I could never keep myself amused or focused for any length of time when I knew that there was a whole other world just beyond my door. The crystal handle mocked me every day, the small reflections of light begging me to open the door, to leave, to see what was happening above…But I never did. I never opened that door, never went looking for trouble. I just waited impatiently for the Hatter to retrieve the sparrow from her cage and whisk her away to spread her wings if only for a little while.

He was never late; he knew my nature too well to keep me waiting any longer than necessary. Then every evening he would escort me to dinner and then we would take a brief turn about the deck before returning to my cabin for the evening. The evening was always my favorite part of the day for that was the time that we could talk together for as long as we wished without fear of what might be overheard. I got to know him better than I ever had; now that I had this time with him I wanted to know everything about him. And whenever it came time to leave it was always a bitter parting; he did not wish to leave and I didn't want him to go, but alas Time must always continue on her way in this world. She couldn't be swayed from her path half as easily as she had been in Underland.

So in this manner the months passed-not quickly, but quicker than they would have and eventually one day the words "Land ho!" rang out across the deck and everyone rushed to the prow of the ship to catch a glimpse of the thin black line on the horizon. At first glance, America certainly didn't look like much and I was disappointed, really. But everyone else cheered and whistled in their joy at that line. I was as anxious to be on land again as any of them, but I couldn't be as happy as they were until I could actually see the landscape, buildings, and foliage. So after a few moments I returned to my seat and soon the rest of the crew (at orders of the captain) went back about their business as well.

That night in my cabin, Tarrant babbled on about all the things he was going to do as soon as we reached Massachusetts; the shops he would go to, the hats he planned to make, etc. I smiled half heartedly and nodded before turning to look out of my window. He stopped short in his rant.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his eyes concerned.

"Nothing!" I assured, but my voice was so unconvincing that I didn't believe myself. He raised an eyebrow and rose from his perch on my trunk and stood before where I sat at my desk.

"Alice, whatever it is, you can tell me." He took my hands in his and looked into my eyes with his deep green ones to try to show me the sincerity of his words.

"I don't know what it is." I explained with a sigh, "I guess I just don't know what to do now. We're only going to be docked here for two days, but during that time I will be alone in another country where I know no one and nothing and I'm so far from home that I just don't know if I'll be able to handle it. The ship is one thing, but this is…this is entirely different. It's all so alien to me." He smiled down at me with understanding and tugged up on my hands, urging me to my feet. I stood and was alarmed for a second by the sudden nearness to him- I hadn't realized how close he had been to my chair until I rose and our faces were only centimeters apart. I expected for him to step back and give me some sort of a bubble, but he seemed to be unaware of typical British etiquette and felt no inclination to move further back.

"umm, Hatter…" I motioned with my eyes that I was uncomfortable and hoped that he would understand my hint.

"Oh!" He exclaimed and took a reasonable step back. A brief moment of awkward silence ensued before Hatter straightened as if struck by an idea and extended his hand to me.

"Come with me." He ordered. I tentatively placed my hand in his and the instant that our skins touched, we were off like lightning to the upper deck. I stumbled a few times to try to keep up with him and prayed that he would slow down…but of course he didn't. I stumbled one more time as he rushed us along and this time I fell to my hands and knees. With a frustrated sigh, I push myself into a kneeling position and dusted off the top half of my dress. Why couldn't he ever control his enthusiasm like a normal person?

The thought stopped me dead in my tracks with guilt. I could never want for Tarrant to be normal; that is something that he simply isn't and if he were, then he wouldn't be he. He would be a different he entirely for if one were what they were not, how could they possibly be who they were? On that note, if what you were not became what you were, then what would you be and what becomes of what you were? Would it be overtaken into what you are or would it become a different you of its own? No, Tarrant should never be normal. He should be what he is and not be now or at any time what he isn't. I should never have thought it.

"Miss Alice?"

"I'm sorry." I replied instantly, though of course he had no idea what I was talking about.

"For what; falling? It's not your fault; you can't control gravity. Neither can I for that matter…I was offered to learn once, but I felt it a useless talent when one could persuade Time with little more than a smile and a compliment." I smiled and I felt tears welling up in the corner of my eyes. He was so good to me, he was my best friend and I would never have been able to make it on this trip without him.

"Come on." He said again, offering his hand, "I need to show you something."

It was very cold when we got outside as it was very late in the evening. I wrapped my free arm tightly around myself as the Hatter led me by the hand to the prow of the ship where in the fading light we could still see the outline of the land where we would be docking tomorrow. He pulled me beside him so that we could take in the full glory of it, but I didn't feel like celebrating. In fact, I could barely look at the alien landscape without feeling a lead ball dropped into the pit of my stomach.

"Do you see what that is?" He inquired without looking at me.

"It's America."

"Wrong. That is a line on the horizon…with blobbish parts in it where there would be hills and such. Nevertheless, it is a line; a line that you will be visiting for two days and that's all. A line cannot hurt you and even if it tried, I would beat that line into a question mark for daring to try to harm you." He gave me a smug sort of smirk and straightened with pride in his own little speech.

"Why a question mark?" I inquired

"That's why."

It didn't make any sense to me, but I was happy again. Only then did I notice that he had never let go of my hand after leading me up here and I had unconsciously laced my fingers through his. The heat from his skin was actually keeping me rather warm and I felt no desire to move away from it.

"I'm glad I don't have to wake up." I whispered pensively, leaning against his shoulder.

In a second I felt a moment of utter fear and shock at what I had just said and the manner in which I had said it. I had just set myself up for rejection and was certain that like any normal person, he would push me away and warn me to be more proper and careful when in company just as everyone else had told me whenever I was too affectionate or forward. Even my own mother had tried to stop me from running to hold her when I came home with tears in my eyes after being teased by the other children who didn't believe in Wonderland. 'Tears are both unbecoming and unladylike.' She'd say.

But he didn't push me away. He didn't reject me. He didn't scold me. He didn't say or do anything except hold my hand just a little tighter and continue to look out at the horizon.

"I am also glad that I can be real." I lifted my head from his shoulder to examine his face which I found deep in thought. I didn't like the vague way that he had said that. With my eyes alone I urged him to look at me, but he wouldn't. My eyebrows pulled together with concern and I felt a question burning on my lips, but I held it back.

Tarrant, what are you hiding from me?

Duh duh duuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnn

Oh shit, what's happening? Since when does the Mad Hatter keep secrets? And the docking in America happens tomorrow. What's awaiting our heroes in the New World?

Nyx.20 : You have no idea how much of a compliment your last review was. Thank you so much. And I always laugh whenever I see that you've commented on something and I'll bet that in real life, you are a great person to hang out with.

Niphuria : The family reunion went very well; I showed my guy cousins that I can play sports just as good as them and I got to finish reading Treasure Island. And I love that you picked up instantly what I was trying to portray!

Madigan Keen : I love you; you are so awesome. I don't know what else to say. And if you watch the new movie again, you'll notice that after his rants he chokes out "fez." Or the other time "size. Fez."

Ngoc Chau : you've been here since the beginning and your simple comments of "update!" really help put pressure on me to DO something.

GypsyWitchBaby : Thanks. Writing block sucks and I don't often get sympathy for it, so your comment meant a lot.

Weaver Blyx : I loved your review and I dare you to read "House of Many Ways" or "Pygmalion" before you complain about lisps.

Kimmieh-chan : your early support really helped me to continue with this idea. Thank you.

Megumisakura : My first reviewer for this story. Thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is dedicated to my friend (not you, Chris) who even after all this time thinks I am too dumb to realize that he (in stereotypical teenage girl speak) 'likes me'. After 3 years, you'd think he'd realize that I know.**

…**Chris is the only person reading this who actually knows me in real life.**

**Chapter 8:**

I never did get around to asking him about that, instead I did something that you should never do and just let the question fester inside of me. Later he deposited me at my cabin door with an exceptionally formal farewell and then left without another word. I know that it is irrational, but I took some comfort in that because it meant that the fact that he was keeping secrets hurt him as well as me. But some small amount of comfort still couldn't calm my sea of unrest. As I undressed and readied for bed, my mind ran through a million different scenarios that built on each other and kept getting worse to the point where I could barely stand to have a working mind.

Have you ever had a night that stretched on for more than one night? A minute became an hour and an hour became a night in itself and for a weary mind that cannot rest, that's an awful lot of time. I turned onto my left side, shoved a hand under my pillow. Paused. Turned onto my stomach and punched my pillow before collapsing down with my head to one side and my hands tangled in my hair atop my head. Waited. Flipped 180 degrees, pulled the covers over my head. Stopped. Pulled the covers down to my stomach and folded my hands on my chest like a dead body. Paused. Yanked my pillow from under my head and covered my face with a frustrated sigh. Waited. Put pillow back under my head and rolled to my right, yanking the sheets up to my chin. Stopped.

After that I sat up and lowered my feet to the cold wooden floor. I grabbed my coat from where it sat on my trunk and went to sit at my desk. I didn't even bother to put my jacket on in preference of feeling the cool night on my skin raising goose bumps on my arms. Instead I set myself on the wooden chair and rested the pile of material in my lap. I pulled my knees to my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs. It was so silent in that small room; I scarcely heard my own breath. Resting my cheek against my knee, I turned my face up to look out my one porthole at the starry night sky. That one nanosecond of wish had been enough; he had changed on me in a way that I hated. 'He doesn't keep secrets from me. He doesn't need to. So why is he?' the questions haunted me as I stared at those small points of light on a navy blue canvas. I couldn't recall the last time that I had ever felt so alone.

That's a lie; I could remember. It had been the night before going to the Red Queen's Palace when everything I had known was gone and the only person who I thought could save me had just sacrificed himself for me. Tarrant had sacrificed himself for me. At the thought, my head jerked over my shoulder to find the trunk at the foot of my bed. I knew what was inside it, but now I felt the need to be able to see it. Stepping quickly and dropping my coat to the floor without a second thought, I half ran to it and lifted the lid. There was the Hatter's top hat, right where it ought to be. Then I hit a small revelation. Even if he couldn't tell me everything, even if there was something that he didn't WANT me to know, there was still a part of him that trusted me with himself, with a symbol and a part of everything that he is and ever was. So with that knowledge and a heavy, defeated breath, I returned to bed and slept for what was left of the night.

The next morning was full of excitement and people yelling as we were preparing to dock. I wouldn't bother with breakfast today, instead giving myself an extra few moments to get ready. I donned a white dress with black stitching, accents, and lace today with sleeves that went straight to my elbows before fanning out into a bell shape. Around my neck I tied a thin black ribbon and pinned my hair back out of my face. To finish my look I slid blood red gloves on to add a bit of color before grabbing a black shall and my purse and heading up, not giving a damn what the time was. Odds were that we were already docked anyway. If someone didn't like it, then it was too damn bad.

My thoughts were proved right when I got up on deck and found that they were just finishing setting up a ramp from the boat to the shore, all the ropes already secured and the anchor already dropped. I stopped short at the top step, almost afraid to go out as I watched my shipmates behaving entirely out of character. Everyone it seemed was either calling towards people on the dock or walking in circles about the wooden floorboards mimicking the movements of headless chickens. It was loud, it was crowded, and for a moment I seriously considered turning back around and hiding in my room for another half of an hour at least, but someone rushed up the stairs behind me and accidentally shoved me out into the fray. For thirty seconds I was trapped in a whirlwind of complete chaos as I maneuvered around various sailors and tried desperately to find a small space to stand where I wouldn't be trampled.

Then in the time space of a flash of lightning it was all over; I was spun in a few more circles by moving bodies and deafened by excited voices and when I once again gathered my wits, I was alone on the ship. The ramp had been put in place and every man had already either secured a few days' leave or was currently moving merchandise about the dock. The only two people left on board besides myself were the captain and the loading master who were now engaged in some sort of argument. As I spun my head around I couldn't find Eustace or Tarrant or any friendly face for that matter; I had been completely abandoned in the excitement. I rolled my eyes at myself for having such wonderful friends before taking a deep breath, putting on a brave smile and heading to America.

The first thing I noticed about the new world was the sort of rhytm that the city had to itself. The clack of my boot heels on the wood kept constant clicking quarter notes. Boxes being banged on the ground were accented eight notes at the beginning of each measure. Creaking ships lined along the docks created low half notes. The voices of all the people melded together into a low hum with high and low points which in combination with the wind and waves created a haunting melody and flowed through my body and made me feel that this new place embraced me as a newcomer rather than condemned me as a stranger. Even the sky was bright and smiling without a cloud in sight. It was more than I had ever expected from this land.

If only the people had been as friendly. As with London, all the people here viewed me not as a person, but as an obstacle that they had to dodge. The moment that I left the docks and onto a cobblestone street, it seemed as if I were in the way of every person moving about the sidewalk and I was forced to constantly duck and doge around them; avoiding elbows and shoulders, legs and arms. People everywhere, crushing me, taking my oxygen, spinning me in every which way around the sidewalk until I was completely lost (as if I wouldn't have been anyway) and being swept away with the horde. I didn't make any loud objections or try to speak to anyone; things here were the same as in London where one had to be selective on who they spoke to and on what subject. If you just went up to anyone on the street and asked for directions, the odds were pretty good that all you would receive was an angry look. No, you had to be selective about who you talked to. You had to find that one person with a kind smile or eyes that wandered to either side who didn't look like they had anywhere particular that they needed to be. As I walked I tried to crane my neck to find such a person who might direct me towards a book shop, but I couldn't see anything over the people directly around me and everything second I was being swept further along in the crowd and feeling more and more trapped.

Finally I saw a small opening on one side of the walk that led down a side street. I carefully maneuvered myself to that side, getting elbowed twice in the process, and with a finally shove, I practically leaped into the alley and leaned my back against the wall with one hand pressed over my heart to try to breathe again. I took a few deep breaths and stepped away from the wall into the center of the alleyway and turned to look at the stream of people that I had just gotten out of. The sun was hot on my face; I gave thanks that I had worn something with a low neckline. Wait a moment; why was the sun so warm this early? I quickly yanked on the chain on my neck and my watch flew up into my hand. With an urgency I pressed the button at the top of the thing to find that more than an hour had gone by since I'd left the docks. Who knew how far away I'd gotten?

"Two days slow." I muttered out of impulse, snapping the gold watch shut again and letting the chain drop. I spun my head around and back again to see what my options were. Regrettably, I only had one option and two ways to get there. I was at that time in a narrow-ish alleyway that linked one busy street with another. The crowd on the street in front of me was going one direction, and the crowd on the equally busy street behind me was going the opposite direction. 'Fantastic' I thought dryly.

I wasn't alone in the alleyway. No, there were four men…boys, really; not much older than me. They were probably in their early to mid twenties and they were attempting to appear dangerous, but a single glance from me was all it took to take in what they really were. They had their shirts hanging out of their trousers with loose jackets thrown on over, but both were clean and pressed. They leaned against the brick walls and turned their heads from side to side as they spoke to show that they didn't care, but the moves were unfluid and practiced. They spoke loud and obnoxiously with sweeping arm movements to impress the others who returned this with booming laughter and punching their friend in the arm to show camaraderie. In truth they were little more than the boys who ran behind the liquor store to play marbles simply to prove that they weren't afraid to leave their own yards and flower beds.

Without paying them any more mind I turned back to the street and tried to calculate a good time to move back into the fray. I craned my neck and stood on my toes for a second to try to get a better view when I heard long, heavy footsteps approaching me from behind.

"Are you looking for something there, Miss?" One of the man-boys said, his voice thick with implications. I didn't even bother looking in his directions, deciding rather to ignore him and hope he went away. He waited a second for my reply, but when none came he decided to try again; this time stepping in front of me to force me to see him. With a defeated sigh I rocked back on my heels and met his dark brown eyes.

"Do you need some help going somewhere, Miss?" My eyebrows pulled together in confusion at him for a moment; he put so much emphasis on the word 'going' and I couldn't for the life of me understand why. Don't worry, I am not moronic. I would have known the second that his words posed a real threat to me, but he was still completely harmless. But from his inability to come with any sort of real innuendo I deduced that this man likely was not the brightest of his peers.

"Not from you, thanks." I stated brusquely and maneuvered around him.

"Whoa-ho-ho!" He proclaimed, throwing his arms up in a grand sweeping motion to make a big shows. "Apparently I am not good enough to help this fair lady find her way across the street! What do we think of that, lads?"

"Maybe she's foreign!" called one of the other boys, rallying up another round of laughs.

…Why was that funny? I spun on my heels to face them angrily and began walking towards them.

"You know what, boys, _Maybe_ you should all do yourselves a favor and do something useful with your lives; enroll in school, learn a trait, become a minister-something! Because as entertaining as it is to hang around in alleyways and bother young women, it contributes absolutely nothing to society-much like dirt- and therefore you are all currently no better than dirt." With that now said, I took a breath and lightened my tone. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" I turned my back on the now shocked faces and returned to the mouth of the alley.

"Oh-! So-so i-it's a little British girl! A little British mousy!" I was truly disappointed that that was the best he could come up with.

"If you knew some of the mice that I do, you wouldn't be considering that an insult!" I called over my shoulder and kept walking, a small laugh in my heart.

I hopped to the other side of the street and since horse traffic was low, I decided to stay there. It was far more favorable to being crushed by numerous foul-smelling bodies. I smiled at myself for my little speech. Maybe this would turn out to be a good day after all.

"Hey you! Don't think that you can just walk away from me Missy!" I didn't have to turn around to know the voice of the boy in the alley. So he had decided to be brave and brave the light of day, had he?

Wait a second…"Missy"? Did he really just call me "Missy"? Well for that, if he wanted a confrontation he was going to have to work for it.

With that thought I broke out into a full sprint down the street, losing my ribbon and letting hair fly in a yellow mess all around me. A huge grin spread across my face as I ran onward, throwing a single glance behind me to find (from what little I could see) that he had given to the chase and was following me at an alarmingly fast rate. Noticing my error, I threw myself into a higher speed that I couldn't maintain for long, but would give me a bit more of a lead.

"I declare that you go…this way." I muttered, throwing myself to the right. In my haste I nearly lost my footing by catching my boot on my dress, but I slammed my hand against a lamppost within reach and continued without slowing for more than a fraction of a second. Unfortunately for me, the combination of an iron lamppost and high speed equivocated an incredibly sore hand for me.

With adrenalin pumping, I led the boy down a few more turns; a left here, two more rights, maybe another left…until I found myself on a road much wider than the others with a fair amount of people and businesses with large shop windows lining each side of the street. This was the area that I had wanted to be in the first place! So now it was time to lose the boy, but where was I going to go?

'_Let's see,_' I thought, '_Maybe take the next right and then trying ducking into th_-'

"_Whoa!"_ I yelped as I was yanked roughly from my right side.

"Not that way." A disembodied voice muttered as my world suddenly went from near-blinding sunlight to dimly lit candles. In the brief moment in time that I was pulled into said room, I stumbled over the doorstop and would have fallen completely on my face if the disembodied voice hadn't suddenly grown arms.

"Easy now." He chuckled, supporting me by holding me up from under my arms. Instinctively I latched onto him as well, but my small hands only reached halfway between his elbows and shoulders, which were intimidatingly defined. I took a few deep breaths to gather myself before lifting my head and shaking it to one side in a single motion (to keep my hair out of my face) to see who had so rudely pulled me from my hunt. Was I still allowed to call it 'a hunt' when I was acting as prey?

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, but once they did any anger that I might have felt was blown away like a scrap of paper in a windstorm. I had never been one for admiring the opposite gender, but standing in front of me and supporting me was one of the most handsome men that I had ever seen in my life. The man was probably an inch or so taller than Tarrant, with a noble brow and highly defined chin. His hair was long and shaggy, but clean, as it fell across his forehead nearly covering expressive eyebrows and partially obscuring blue eyes that even in the darkness were as pale as porcelain. His face had not been shaven in several days, but the look only aided his persona as 'the handsome American ruffian' and completing the ensemble was a confident, crooked smile that slightly showed the straight teeth hidden under Italian lips.

I let go of the man's arms and took a hurried step back, brushing down the front of my dress and taking a quick look around me. I was in a tavern for the first time in my life, a worrying number of people there for the time of day, but at least it was a public place so I could at least guess that I hadn't jumped into a fire pit of trouble without meaning to. As a bonus, no one seemed to notice, let alone care, about the scene being laid before them. But I reminded myself that I had to stay on my guard; one only knows what will happen to you in a strange country if you aren't cautious.

I took a few more deep breaths; I hadn't realized how much that run took out of me. I turned back to the man with a heightened awareness, but he was still looking at me as he had a moment ago; as if I were a person who he'd known for years rather than a stranger he'd literally pulled off the street. His confident-no, that's not the right word-his _suave _smile was still completely unchanged.

I gave him a quick once over and raised an eyebrow at him. "Who are you?"

"A friend, I hope." He replied, shrugging and glancing to one side as he answered.

I have never in my entire life rewritten a chapter as many times as I have rewritten this one. I pray that I will never have to again.

There should never be this long of a wait between chapters again and I sincerely apologize to anyone who has been waiting for an update.


	9. Chapter 9

**No excuse except for finals and a jerk who gave me the most horrible review I ever received that made me give up writing for a while. But me posting this chapter is my reply of 'F*** you, I don't care if you like what I write or not.' So I hope that you guys like this chapter. It ends kind of abruptly but what happens next really has to go in another chapter. **

**I hope you all get thoroughly confused. ;)**

**Chapter 9:**

"A 'friend'?" I challenged, "That really doesn't tell me much about you."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." His reply was cavalier and his…manner of how he spoke gave me a glance at his character; a man used to getting what he wants, kind enough, but would likely desert a friend at the drop of a hat if it suited him. Though he was an incredibly handsome man to behold, I decided then and there that I didn't want to get too close.

"Would you care for a drink?" He offered with sudden sincerity and motioned towards the bar.

"No thank you. I should be getting back; my friend is waiting for my return." Liar.

"What's in a drink?" He pleaded, but I couldn't place why his tone was coupled with that question.

"Alcohol." I replied, confused. My voice raised slightly at the back end of the word as if it were more a question than an answer. He laughed.

"No, sweetheart, I meant 'What is the harm in a drink?' Just one, little drink between friends?" That word again.

"I like to believe that I hold a higher standard of friends than men who grab women off the street and pull them into dimly lit taverns." My tone was sharp, much sharper than I had intended and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. True, I didn't like him referring to me that way, but that didn't give me the right to be cruel right off the bat to someone who had meant to help me. I should be grateful that he had come to my aide, even if I was resolved to be distant. Suddenly I couldn't look at him any more and I turned my head away from him in the direction of the bar.

The regret must have been evident on my face because I heard him release a half breath/ half laugh and repeat his offer in a gentle voice.

"One drink?" I bit my lip and deliberated for a fraction of a second before guilt got the best of me and I muttered a tiny "all right." In reply.

The man put a guiding hand at the small of my back and led me to the long table of polished wood. He sat me at one of the worn high chairs that creaked under my weight and took the seat next to mine. I took a moment to take in the wood of the bar top itself. The wood was for the most part and warm brown with a dark red tint with deep scratches and dents and water rings that looked as natural there as the wood grains. There were several trails of water streaking horizontally across the wood where the bartender had slid glasses to his customers. Slightly to the right of where I sat I could see where a man had carved his name into the wood, leaving pale lines against a deep red canvas. With my fingernail I absentmindedly began to pick at one of the dents and marveled at such a simple creation that must have been witness to hundreds of scenes of all emotions in this tavern; that had listened to thousands of lamented stories of wounded souls as they tried to drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey or beer.

The small thud of glass on wood as a drink was placed inches from my nose brought me back to earth with a start. I hadn't realized that I had been leaning closer and closer to the table in my examination. I quickly straightened up with rigid posture, a reflex that I had been taught by my mother through many painful years of training. Again my companion laughed, but this time it was more carefree and noticeable in the silent bar; it echoed off the walls and several customers turned to look at us briefly before returning to their glasses.

"You're a curious creature, now aren't you? What do you call yourself?"

"Alice." I muttered, picking up my drink and looking into it. It had a very warm smell, but I didn't fully trust it, so I carefully set it back on the bar and pushed it away with two fingers.

"You don't like whiskey?" He asked, glancing between me and the glass.

"No." My voice was louder, but not by much. He waited a moment for me to say something more, but I had somehow managed to lose every bit of my muchness the second that I had hurt him. It was probably best for me to keep my mouth shut.

I was surprised that he didn't feel the need to say anything either. Instead, he simply leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and gave me a crooked, questioning smile that made me very uncomfortable.

"What?" I asked loudly when I couldn't bear it any more.

"This is not going to be a one sided conversation. I have you here for however brief a time and I am determined to make it count. So you are going to talk to me whether you like it or not, Alice."

"Fine, then!" I stated, frustrated, "What's your name?"

"Sawyer."

"Is that your first name or last name?"

"Does it matter? I go by Sawyer, and since we're not doing business where you'd actually need to know my full name in all its glory, you can call me Sawyer." I hadn't been expecting an answer like that. It took me off guard, but in a good way.

"Well you are a curious creature yourself, Sawyer." He smiled at me, a genuine smile this time, and didn't say anything more. Instead, he decided to test the waters to see if I would let him in to my mind for a short while. He took his glass, raised it to me, and took a sip. In reply I took a deep breath before raising my glass to my lips and letting to warm, harsh liquid run down my throat.

With that, we turned from a loose acquaintance to an uneasy friendship. We sat for a few hours, talking about nothing important, but everything that no one else bothered to ask. As the minutes passed, I found that Sawyer has a way on unwinding you; of pulling back your defenses one by one until he sees what is actually there. With me it took a fair amount of effort on his part and I really had to give him my respect for that. He started with asking the usual "where are you from"s and "where are you going"s, but eventually he managed to work his way through to childhood friends, my objections to the society circles of England, all the way up why I felt dying alone wouldn't be as morbid as everyone I know claims it would be. Frankly, I have no idea how we managed to get onto that last topic.

Eventually, we were coming out of some sort of joke when Sawyer said off handedly "What time is it?" The question woke me from the near dream state that I had been lulled into and I jumped up from the stool and clutched the watch hanging from my throat. I stood too fast in my haste and was rushed with lightheadedness, but by sheer force of will I forced my eyes to focus on the small hands and found that nearly five hours had passed since I had left the ship.

"Bullocks." I muttered, snapping it shut. Would Hatter be looking for me? I bit my lip and stared unwillingly at the door behind me. I wasn't ready to go yet.

"Do you want me to escort you somewhere?" At the sound of his voice I turned my eyes back to his ice blue ones. His face was saddened and the darker, jealous schoolgirl in me felt a rush of sick pleasure at his apparent unwillingness to see me go. I wanted to look away a moment to really deliberate this choice, but he wouldn't release me from those eyes. I almost felt something like fear because I don't believe that at that moment, whether from his wish or mine, I had the option to leave him behind.

"I would like that." I said through numb lips. The words didn't sound like they had come from me, but from another girl; probably no worse of a person than I was, but still entirely different.

Without another word he smiled and offered his arm, which I happily looped my hand through, and we walked out of the dimly lit building and back into the near blinding light of the outside world. I felt better being thrown into the new world because I was not alone anymore; he had found me and saved me in a way. I doubt that I truly needed saving, but the act still gave credit to Sawyer's morality. You know, it is nice to be a hero, but it is also nice to feel taken care of. I never got a lot of that at home after father died; mother turned as cold as a pond in winter when he left, and Margaret and I just…followed suit. Of course, Margaret had her friends and was able to recover in time, but I was so young. A child cannot be expected to morn on their own and move on, not after something like that. Why couldn't my mother ever see that? I know she always loved me and does to this day, but-

"Are you all right?" Sawyer asked out of nowhere "Your face is all scrunched up like you're having an argument with yourself. You really got to learn to relax."

"What?"

"Never mind. I lost you again to that world in your head." He rolled his eyes and kept walking with a small laugh that sounded rather condescending to me.

"Well how do you know that it is simply in my head, hmmm? What if my world were as real as you are? Though, I like to think that my world would be a bit more interesting than you, Mr. Sawyer." I playfully arched an eyebrow and smirked at him, which he returned with equal ruefulness.

"I guess you'll just have to take me there sometime. Now let's take this next left; there's something I want you to see."

It turned out that on the street that was the next left, there was a simply beautiful bookshop that was just right for me. The shop was painted a mahogany red with an enormous shop window revealing the yellow tinted light from inside. Even from across the sheet I could smell the ink and leather from the books that were so cramped onto every shelf. Through the window I saw a depressingly few number of people exploring those shelves that lined the walls from ceiling to floor with movable ladders scattered about them. There were so many books, stacks of them as high as my waist were everywhere on the floor, with only a few narrow walkways left to maneuver through the shop. I paused for a second with my mouth half open like a fool to try to take it in. It wasn't as neat as all the shops in London; stories here ran unruly and wild, but all in perfect condition and care. It was beautiful.

I did not bother to hold back any of my enthusiasm as I half ran across the street into the store without bothering to see if my companion followed. Upon passing through the wooden portal, I found the yellow glow I had seen from across the way was both warm and welcoming. I smiled and ran down the first few rows, my fingers stretched to each side grazing the leather bindings. Then I began to search. I climbed one of the ladders and hurriedly took book after book off of the shelf. I read the back, flipped and read a random page, and placed them back until I happened upon a work of Shakespeare I enjoyed. I tucked it under my arm and continued on. I scoured the shop for anything that I felt I needed to read; two works by sister authors, the Belles, a collection of the works of Tennyson, and two books of exotic biology (one of birds and one of plants and flowers). Finally satisfied, I found the counter where a kind old man with large glasses stood behind the counter chatting with a strapping young man on the other side. The clerk noticed me first and stopped talking to look at me and the young man turned his head as well and gave me a heart-stopping smile as he noted my load.

"Did you find something that you like?" He joked.

"Yes I did, thank you." I replied smugly and set down my stack on the counter with a near defiant air. But I made a blunder with my confidence and the precarious stack wobbled, sending the top book falling to the floor. I quickly leaned to make a grab for it, but in the time that it took me to make that small movement, Sawyer had dropped to his knee and caught the book before it hit the ground.

His movement was too fast. There was no way that he could have done that and I believed that he noticed his error when he saw the disbelief and suspicion on my face. He smiled and blew off the incident, placing the book on the counter with the others and standing. He looked at me with a grin that, though not threatening, still frightened me and his eyes were cautious, nervous. I was frozen until the clerks voice finally broke through my consciousness when he told me the amount that I owed him. Flustered, I reached for my purse and asked for the amount again.

"Oh, there's no need. I'll pay for that." Sawyer objected, searching various pockets for his wallet.

"No, really I can't let you. I-"

"-I insist." He now had one hand on his wallet and he placed the other gently on my significantly smaller hand that was digging through my purse. I drew my face up and his face had changed again while I wasn't watching. He no longer grinned, but his eyes bore a message for me that he refused to say out loud; so instead he tried to portray it with his gesture of paying for my goods. It is probably unfair to tell you what the message was since I myself did not discover it until further reflection at a later date, but here it is; He was dangerous, but he had no intention of harming me and was apologetic that he had frightened me.

"Thank you." I muttered and he paid for the books and left the glorious establishment.

We did not speak any more as walked down the street in the direction of the harbor, but Sawyer did not leave and I did not want him to. After a while the silence became comfortable again. He carried my books and smiled like anything and soon I even felt comfortable enough to loop my arm through his as we approached the Wonder.

"Well, I guess this is as far as I go." I said regrettable as we reached the plank of wood that connected sea to shore. He handed my books back to me and gave me a small smirk as an idea came to his mind. "…what?" I asked, studying him.

"Oh, nothing." He assured looking down and taking a small step back. I raised an eyebrow to show that I did no believe him and opened my mouth to question him further when the cry of "ALICE!" from the dock caused me to turn and notice the Hatter scurrying down the plank as fast as he could in his too-large boots. Naturally he fell and ended up tumbling down the rest of the way to my feet.

"Tarrant, are you alright?" I asked, helping him up.

"I'm fine." He replied, but his voice was airy and sounded choked off. He patted down his shirt as I began my lecture.

"You need to be more careful where you walk. One of these days you're going to hurt yourself and-" I was cut off by the glare that Tarrant was giving to the man standing behind me.

"Charlie, how nice to see you again." He stated; his words cold and stiff.

"Tarrant, always a pleasure." Sawyer returned, his words were not as brittle, but they were far more sarcastic.

"How is your father doing?" Tarrant grabbed me by the hand and pulled me slightly behind him. Sawyer lowered his gaze from Tarrant's face to our joined hands and then back up. Suddenly his mood changed again to the happy, strange man that I had met in the bar.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you, Alice. Stay out of trouble." He winked and set my books down near me, then nodded at Tarrant and left without another word. As he retreated he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and whistled. What a curious man.


End file.
